As she rounded the first bend in the road, she looked back at the Keep. Threatening clouds gathered faster than fiddlers playing at a festival above the ancient stones. The first bolt of lightening struck the South Tower. Smoke spilled from behind the damaged stone. Logan gasped as small dots filled the sky, moving from south to north. They drew closer, becoming some unknown winged creatures. Thousands of them. Neit stuck his head out of the blanket and hissed. He retreated inside the soft material inside the basket. The sky grew black with the creatures, whose beating wings filled the air like the roar of an overheated fireplace. As they flew overhead, she sank to the ground, her body trembling. She’d never seen anything like these creatures. Round heads with horns like cattle, hide rough and scaly looking, and long skinny legs, two shorter ones protruded from the trunk and the longer ones from the bottom of the creature, hanging limp.